


What to Expect When You're On the Run

by berryfartsart



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, On the Run, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Secret Identities, Single Dad Snatcher AU, hat kid doesnt talk a lot and shes shy, hat kids name is Harriet, im gonna try and keep it in order but the chapters may jump to a past timeframe, past abusive relationship, snatcher breakdances on the legal line, snatcher trying to raise a kid while hes on the run from his crazy ex, these are gonna be set up kind of like random points of snatcher raising hat kid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24654493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryfartsart/pseuds/berryfartsart
Summary: The thunder and rain pelts down into the alleyway, his hair and face becoming soaked. Staring down into the sniffling baby girl in his arms, protected only by the heavy blanket covering her body, he whispers, lost and confused.“What are we gonna do now, kiddo?”
Relationships: Hat Kid & Snatcher (A Hat in Time), Hat Kid (A Hat in Time) & Everyone, The Prince/Queen Vanessa (A Hat in Time)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 247





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> so ive been into aHiT for about a year now and ive wanted to write this idea down for awhile now. im an amateur writer so please excuse any mistakes or weirdness. i dont really have a set schedule of when im gonna update this but i do have the whole story plot outlined. also i know nothing about anything so if some knowledge seems lacking or wrong please (politely) let me know and i might change it later.  
> Enjoy!

The sudden noise of shouting and slamming of doors jerked the drowsy receptionist workers to a wake. An average height male in his mid-40’s storms out of the dreary corner office, a smaller and younger man, seemingly in his early 20’s, following him hurriedly.

“Thor, you need to calm down.”

The older man halts and whips around to face the younger, ignoring the curious stares of his coworkers.

“Calm down? Calm down?! How the hell can I calm down?! That bastard is going to get us and this company in hot water if he keeps accepting clients like that into this office! He shouldn’t even be taking clients in the first place, Tim! He’s not a lawyer.”

Tim winced at the man’s loud voice, flicking his eyes quickly back towards the small office they emerged from and relaxing a bit at the sight of the door staying closed. Relieved that the subject of their conversation did not seem to hear what was being said, Tim lowered his voice in an attempt to reign down the volume of the other and remind him of where they were.

“No, he’s not, but as a paralegal and mediator he is allowed-”

Thor interrupted, “He’s allowed to research information, cases, and work out small contracts between people in dispute, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I get the same bullshit speech from him everytime I see him, Tim.” The man gritted his teeth and gestured back at the office. “But those people are obviously criminals! Gang members! Hell, I saw the local mafia boss in there last week! This is illegal!”

“Actually, it’s all perfectly above board, pal.”

Both males jumped and turned around to stare at the speaker that was leaning against the wall next to the office coffee maker. Standing over six feet tall, thin yet sturdy, and long purple hair tied up in a bun, the figure put off an intimidating aura to anyone who saw him.

“How did you even get over there, Snatcher?” Thor snarled, stepping back subconsciously.

Snatcher rolled his eyes at the question, brushing back purple colored bangs out his eyes with one hand, and gestured pointedly with the steaming mug of coffee he was holding in the other.

“Well, you were so busy throwing a little tantrum in the middle of the workplace, you and Timbo over there didn’t even notice me walking right past you to get some more coffee.”

As Thor spluttered at the insult and Tim flushed his embarrassment at being caught gossiping about a coworker by said coworker himself, Snatcher shot back the rest of the contents of his mug and placed it into the nearby sink for one of the receptionists to clean later. He walked over to the front door of the office, pulling down his previously rolled up sleeves and grabbing a dark purple suit jacket off of a standing coat rack.

“Leaving early today, hon?” asked one of the more elderly receptionists.

Snatcher grinned back at the woman, wide and almost deranged looking  \-  pure villain material if you asked Thor  \-  and adjusted his purple pinstripe tie as he replied dryly. “As much as I would love to stay for another late night with Thunderboy and Timbo, I have plans with a certain brat tonight.”

The woman smiled adoringly and her fellow assistants also seemed to soften a bit, as if thinking fondly of something. “Well, you best hurry along home then, no one should keep a young lady waiting. Especially one that’s prone to getting into trouble as much as that one is.”

“Don’t I know it,” Snatcher grumbled, grabbing his shoulder bag from off a nearby bench and opening the front door. He turned his head to smirk back at the two other men. “Try not to have another fit or burn down the office while I’m gone. I’m sure Fleur and the ladies would appreciate it.” 

And with a great slam, the man left, leaving the office in a small silence. Thor grunted grumpily and stormed over to slap the button on the coffee maker on, Tim following after him quietly and opening the upper cabinets to grab two mugs. They both stood there silently as the machine quietly hummed before Tim spoke meekly.

“Well, I mean, if he can leave early like this, he definitely isn’t a lawyer.”

Thor snorted.

“Please, he could become a lawyer and still leave whenever he wanted. I’m pretty sure any rules that aren’t his own are just suggestions to him.”

“Well, he does at least have a good reason to leave whenever.”

Thor rolled his eyes and huffed, catching a warning glare from Fleur from behind her desktop, and quickly turned to the now done coffee, pouring out a large cup of straight black and turning to head back to his own personal office to work.

“Yeah, yeah. I still say it’s just an elaborate scheme of some sort. There’s no way a guy like that could have a kid.”

* * *

The enemy was onto them. 

Squatting secretly behind her chosen hiding place, a tiny hand reaches for the small walkie talkie attached to her jumper’s front pocket.

“Commander Blue, the enemy has breached the perimeter. Do you copy?”

At the feedback sound of static, the girl frowns down at the device, smacking it against the side wall of her secret spot, before trying again.

“Commander Blue, do you copy?”

Feedback static once again. She frowns and fiddles with the small tuning dial atop the walkie talkie, not noticing a large shadow swooping over the back open side of her spot. Just as the young girl is about to try again, two hands reach out from behind her and grab her around the waist, causing her to shriek in surprise.

“Harriet King! There you are!”

No! She was caught!

Harriet struggled against the firm grip, latching her small arms onto the underside pillars of the slide platform she was hiding under. After some futile tugs, the hands around her waist begin to wriggle gently, causing a ticklish feeling to start up her sides.

No! They were planning to torture her?!

The tickling continued and Harriet felt her arms weaken their hold of the wooden pillar. Childish, high pitched giggles were starting to bubble up and out of her throat until finally she was full on screaming with laughter. Her arms finally gave way and she felt her captor stumble back with the full weight of her in their arms, letting out a small ‘oof’ as the two of them both fell back into the playground sand surrounding them.

“You better hope this sand comes out easy, kid.”

Harriet gasped and sat up, straddling the figure’s chest beneath her.

“Daddy!”

Her father’s face widened into his usual large grin, his eyes fond and his hands gentle as he lifted her off his chest, standing himself up out of the gritty sand. Snatcher gave them both a quick brush off to get rid of most of the gritty material before settling her on his hip and walking away from her hiding spot.

“Causing trouble again, kiddo? Here I come to pick you up early today, only to find out that you and your little bow headed friend are giving your teachers the runaround again.”

Harriet giggled and wrapped her arms around her father’s neck, blowing a quick raspberry at his face. He shook his head at her and let out an over dramatic sigh.

“Honestly, who raised you to act like this. I should have a word with your parents, young lady.”

They had crossed the playground by this point, reaching the entrance where her two teachers stood. Both looking relieved and slightly annoyed at her. Her homeroom teacher, Ms. Marcy, spoke up first.

“Well, I hope you and Bow enjoyed terrorizing the staff today with your disappearing act. You should be glad that your friend told us where you were hiding before she went home for the day.”

Ah. So that’s how her father found her. Betrayed by her own companion. 

Her other teacher, Mrs. Peters, spoke up as well.

“And don’t think we didn’t notice that you two ran off with our walkie talkies again. We’ve already told you girls several times that they aren’t toys. We expect you to return the one that you took.”

Harriet reached for her front pocket and gasped at its emptiness, thinking back to a few minutes ago where it fell out of her grasp and into the sand beneath the slide. She gives the adults a sheepish grin and a significant glance back towards the winding, plastic structure. Ms. Marcy sighs and waves them both off, walking to grab the mislaid device. Mrs. Peters gives Harriet an exasperated look before bidding both her and her father a farewell, trailing after her fellow teacher. Snatcher waited until they were at least down a block from her school before letting out a loud, boisterous laugh.

“AHAHAHA! Never a dull day for those two when you’re around, huh, kiddo?”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Well, I was going to take a certain brat for a special ice cream dinner, seeing as today is special, but I don’t think I should reward criminals like you.”

Harriet tilted her head at Snatcher, a confused and curious look crossing her face. Snatcher rolled his eyes and sat his daughter down onto the curb before digging into his bag and pulling out a long flat box.

“Honestly, kid, you should at least be able to remember your own birthday. You’re 8 years old now and already having memory problems? Way to give your old man some grey hairs already.”

Harriet gasped in wonder and squealed, jumping up to hug her father. Snatcher huffed and rolled his eyes fondly at her, pulling back from the hug to hand her the gift. Carefully, she pulled the stick-on bow off the top and slapped it to the side of her dad’s long hair, and while ignoring his disgruntled grumbling, Harriet quickly lifted the top lid of the box and pulled out the long, yellow fabric that lay within. Snatcher pulled the bow off his head, along with some of his hairs, and slapped it onto her head instead.

“I sure got a strange kid. Last year it was a top hat, this year it’s a cape. You planning on being some weird superhero, kiddo?” 

Harriet blew a raspberry at him and wrapped the cloak around her, snapping the buttons holding it together on her neck closed. She then spun and danced around Snatcher, cape fluttering behind her before she did a cute twirl and pose right in front of him. Her father clapped slowly and overdramatically at her performance, his face seemingly blank and unimpressed, but his eyes alight with a deep fondness at her antics.

“Alright, brat, if you’re done being a street performer, how about we go get that special dinner before the place closes, huh?”

Harriet giggled and grabbed onto her father’s hand, tugging him forward at an excited and rushed pace.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, kiddo. How are you so freakishly strong? Are you some sort of a gorilla?”

Childish giggles and terrifying cackles echo down the emptying street, two figures walking hand in hand as the sun starts to set behind them.


	2. Birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps whiteboard covered in papers and red strings*  
> ok so like i said, im gonna try and keep the timeline in order. the 'prologue' is the point we are actually going to work up to. i hope this isnt too confusing to anyone. this chapter is heavily vanessa centric because shes not gonna show up in this fic hardly at all after this, itll just mainly be snatcher and hat kids pov. also remember that vanessa in canon is a selfish nutbag so of course she is also like this in this fic as well.  
> the narrator is not always reliable when relaying their side of the story in this fic

He met Vanessa in high school.

They had both attended the same prestigious private academy, her through money and him through scholarship. Michael J. Prince stood at an average height, his brown locks kept in a windswept fashion, and was always seen carrying an almost towering pile of books. These same books would lead to many almost accidents and one actual life changing accident. As if it was fated to be, they met each other with a little fanfare as he collided into her while walking down the stairs, her teary eyed and distracted, and him half blinded by the sheer thickness of books.

With a great tumble and a loud enough noise to peak the curiosity of nearby teachers getting ready for class, the young man opened his eyes to the sight of a beautiful girl beneath him, the backdrop of fallen books and their open inked pages contrasting with her bright blue and misty eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” stuttered the now flustered boy, sitting up and offering a hand to the girl under him. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

The girl shook her head and gave a shy smile to Micheal that made his heart start racing and his palm lightly perspired against her own as she took hold of his offered hand. 

And with that, he fell. 

* * *

Her prince rode in when it seemed all the joy in her life had vanished.

She had been watching him since the school year started, fascinated by his commoner roots. She knew from whispers that his parents were well off, but not enough to afford the high class academy that he attended. Her family name and wealth made it easy for her to enroll, but with his smarts and determination he carved his own path into their system and eventually her arms. Vanessa was enamored by his boyish charm and quick wit. His beautiful gold eyes and naturally curled locks gave him a regal look that reminded her of the heroes and knights in the fairy tale books the servants would read to her.

Vanessa would fantasize about the handsome boy in her class, too shy to speak to him, but bold enough to ask others about him. His likes and dislikes, the law books he liked to borrow from the library, his placement on the school debate team, and the few stories of his childhood that he shared were all gathered by her and helped further fuel her daydreaming sessions, whisking Vanessa’s boring school days away. 

Then, six months into her third year, her mother died.

It wasn’t fair! She was only sixteen! How could her mother go and die, leaving the family business and all its responsibilities to Vanessa? She only wanted to leisurely live her life, surrounded by the wealth of her family and dream of her beloved prince! She stormed down the halls of the academy, further enraged by the pitying looks of her classmates, obviously not envying her sudden forced role of the family business. Her mother always did hate her, leaving Vanessa to nothing but the company of her servants. Father was no better, crashing his sail boat when she was only five and drowning himself, abandoning her.

The angry red haze she felt cover senses blocked out her vision and soon she found herself falling backwards, another body landing atop her own as her back collided onto the bottom of a set of stairs she was attempting to climb. She felt her anger grow even more, the rage and frustration building up a set of bitter tears, until the person above her lifted up and off of her, soft gold eyes peering down at her own icy blue with a kind and worried look.

Her prince! Her beloved knight!

She was shocked enough by his sudden appearance and his offered hand, that she barely noticed her intense anger rush away, replaced by a giddy and heartfelt adoration. She felt herself smile at him, too in awe to even reply back. It was fate that sent him to her, she was sure of it! His worried look and flustered cheeks sent her heart abloom and she eagerly took hold of his palm, admiring the largeness of it compared to her own smaller and dainty hand. She would not let this boy go, she decided. He was meant to be hers, sent by a higher being for forgiveness of the cruel hand she was dealt with in life.

And with that, she had caught him.

* * *

They had both planned to marry each other when they graduated from the academy.

His parents heard Vanessa’s gushing about wedding plans and shared a concerned look between themselves. It was too early to consider marriage, they said to him later, in private. How will you handle being newly married and separating for the first time in your relationship when you go off to school? He took their words to heart but reassured himself that their love was too strong to suffer from a bit of time apart. After all, absence only makes the heart grow stronger.

One month before graduation however, his parents perished in a car accident. 

Micheal was beside himself with grief, his grades and mood dropping to an all time low. After a bit of mourning though, he felt his determination fire up to maximum. He had long sworn to his parents to become great lawyers like they were and he would not break his oath to them, especially not now. His teachers helped boost his grades back up with some extra credit and after some consideration, he decided to start his university degree in the summer instead of the fall. Vanessa was understandably upset, her mood sour and bitter until he knelt down on one knee one day in her luxurious kitchen and presented her half of their future wedding band.

“It may not be the grand scene you envisioned it would be when I was to give this to you, but it is my promise to you. We will not be legally married but we shall wear our rings and be married by our hearts, until I finish my schooling and return to you, my love.”

She had burst into happy tears, promising to wear her ring everyday until she died, and he swore to wear his always.

Two weeks later, Micheal packed his bags and set off to university.

* * *

She was irritated.

Vanessa had long accepted her prince setting off to school, consoled only by the smooth, shiny band around her ring finger and the promise of biweekly letters. While she was still lonely and longed for his presence, she found joy in his happiness and the romantic words and poems he wrote back to her. It made her feel like some long suffering maiden she read in her favorite books, waiting for her beloved to return home from his journey abroad to sweep her off her feet and carry her into the sunset.

But this.

This did not bring her joy.

Lately, her dear prince was struggling with a class and told her that he sought the help of a tutor. Vanessa wished she could have helped him herself, but law was such a boring and tedious subject and she preferred to have others do the hard work. While she was the owner of the family company in name, she had other people handle the actual running of the business, leaving her time to browse wedding gowns and plan out her future with her soon to be husband. 

The letters he sent after he started under the tutelage spoke of high praises and admirable traits of his new tutor. Vanessa was a bit bored by the long, winding paragraphs he wrote about them, but was content by her prince’s happiness, until she learned his tutor’s name.

Lily Gardner.

A woman.

‘Unacceptable.' she thought, hands clenching hard around the letter around her hand, the letter ripping apart in her grip as she reread that name over and over again. ‘This is unacceptable.'

A woman! Her prince’s tutor was a woman! Why on earth would he allow some other girl to teach him, let alone speak to him! Vanessa was already his, and he was hers! There was no need to speak to another pretty, young girl when he already had the most beautiful princess in the world at home, waiting for him!

Was he cheating on her?

No, he would never. Vanessa eased her grip, the tension slowly releasing out of her hunched shoulders. It was this strange woman that was the problem. The parasite that was trying to bind itself to her love. This temptress would have to be dealt with, but with her apparent stellar grades, personality and the honorable nature of the university, Vanessa wouldn’t be able to pay the school to kick the wench out without raising the suspicions of anyone, especially her naive prince. No, she would have to somehow pull her love out of the school, which would be a near impossible task considering it was a lifelong dream of his. Oh, she loved him so, but why must her prince be so noble and selfish! What about his dear princess, left alone to worry while evil seductress’ tried to steal him away from her?

Vanessa stared blankly around her room, chewing intensely on her bottom lip as her brain whirled about, struggling to find some way to save her prince. Her eyes caught on the half open door connected to her large bedroom, a well made wooden cradle sitting in a barely started nursery she had thought of a couple of weeks ago, dreamily imagining laying in her husband’s embrace as he held her and her pregnant belly gently. He would whisper sweet nothings into her ear as he thanked her lovingly for their future baby.

Baby.

Vanessa’s mind whirled.

A baby.

She ripped open her desk drawer, pulling out her calendar book, and flipped through it hastily to her love’s next summer break. Quietly counting back and a gleam entering her eyes, Vanessa smiled broadly and slapped the book shut with a quiet snap. Once again, a higher being had taken pity on the cruel hand that fate kept trying to serve her. She called for one of the passing maids with her buzzer, ordered her to schedule a doctor’s visit and set off to her large bathroom to wash and plan.

Two weeks later, the princess followed after her prince.

* * *

He was in love.

He loved Vanessa but this love was different. This love was pure, unconditional and protective.

Small, almost miniscule hands, chubby cheeks, gently sloping nose, a soft fuzz of brown hair and large, sky blue eyes.

His daughter.

His heart.

She wasn’t planned. But she was wanted. She was needed. Micheal didn’t know how he ever lived without her in his life and she had only been in his world for six days.

When Vanessa had told him in his spring term that she was pregnant he had been so scared. Terrified. He only had to finish that term and the next and he could take his bar exam and finally become a lawyer. He was so busy that he could barely make time to write to his love, and now she was alone and pregnant. She was terrified as well, he could tell.

A dysfunction, Vanessa’s family doctor said. Her IUD had failed and now she was pregnant with their baby.

Micheal finished up his term and had plenty of time to be with Vanessa for the majority of her pregnancy. She was constantly in fits of rage and aggression, but he understood that this was just the fault of her hormones acting up. Her best days seemed to happen when they worked on the nursery together. They talked fondly about what to name their future child and what features of theirs it would have. Usually after a couple of hours of work, him and Vanessa would end up quietly waltzing together in the middle of the decently sized room, painted glow in the dark stars and a moon shining down on them.

A month before he was to set off to finish his final term, Vanessa had broken down and cried on his shoulder, heavily pregnant and distressed because he would be leaving the week before the baby was scheduled to be due. She didn’t trust her staff to help her with a newborn and she was so horrified at the thought of raising the child alone. He felt for her, she didn’t plan to become pregnant, he knew. They were going to wait till well after marriage, but life had other plans for them. After some thinking and a lot of begging for Vanessa, Micheal decided not to attend his university in the fall, figuring since he started his schooling early anyways, he could afford to skip one semester. Especially if it meant being there for Vanessa and the baby.

Their baby.

His child.

Michael brought himself back to the present, where he was absentmindedly brushing his knuckles against the soft flesh of his daughter’s cheek. Her eyelashes fluttered and her little legs stretched out as much as they could as she blinked sleepily up at him. Her eyes seemed to brighten at the sight at him and her curled fists twitched up towards him an inch before falling back heavily to her plush bedding. The baby seemed distressed by her lack of movement and his distance from her, the brow on her forehead furrowing and her face starting to sour as she prepared to cry. Her father quickly silenced her by picking her up carefully and cradling the infant against his chest.

“Shh, it’s alright, Harriet. Daddy’s here.”

He hummed a small tune and softly smiled as his baby girl gurgled at him, seeming to almost keep beat with his rhythm. He twirled about slowly with her in his arms, doing as much of a small dance with her as he could at her size. After a couple of minutes passed, he felt her tiny breaths start to slow and her hands loosened their grip on the cravat he wore. He gently placed her back into her large baby cradle, and wrapped her snugly into a purple, cashmere blanket before continuing his previous activity of quietly staring at her sleeping form while stroking her little apple cheeks.

“Goodnight, my little princess.” he whispered.

He would do anything for this precious girl, he knew then and there. No matter what it took, he would protect this small piece of happiness. There was nothing to stop him from ever facing any struggle she faced head on. He would be there to help her at every waking moment. She would want for nothing. For he was hers, and she was his.

His daughter.

His soul.

His princess.

* * *

She was heartbroken.

Vanessa loved her prince so deeply, honestly and unwaveringly. To her he could jump higher than the moon itself and become a brighter star than the sun. Their child was supposed to bind the two of them together, leaving him no choice but to see that his place was by Vanessa’s side. She had already convinced him to put off going back to that stupid school and leave behind that temptress, Lily. Their child was supposed to be the key to keeping the chains she wrapped around her prince locked. Now, not even a week old yet, this child would take him from her.

Her daughter.

Her curse.

She watched from the door as her 

~~-mine, mine, mine-~~

dear, sweet prince 

~~-ignored her, he ignored her, he didnt even see her-~~

sung to the small child and dance with her around the room 

~~-that was her dance, not the childs, hers!~~

Vanessa felt her fists clench and the familiar red haze of her anger wash over her, her body trembling with the feeling.

“Goodnight, my little princess.”

A bucket of cold water, a slap to the face, a punch in her gut. These all would have been kinder to her then the sharp words his voice threw at her. The woman stumbled away in shock, rage left behind in the cold wake of a deep and bitter sadness. Vanessa felt betrayed by her child and yet the actual traitor all along was her own lover.

Her knight.

Her soul.

He may have been her prince, she realized.

But she was never his princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i love the name Lukas or Luka for the prince but i really wanted to incorporate moonjumper somehow into this fic but not as another person so i just made snatchers name Micheal James Prince. so....MJ
> 
> As always you can come yell at me on my tumblr berryfartsart. Comments and kudos are appreciated always.


	3. First Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. michael is gonna have a very bad time in this chapter. if you are uncomfortable with any descriptions of physical abuse, you might want to skip this chapter and wait for the next one to come out.  
> also i was so exhausted after work today that i didnt go through and edit stuff this chapter so please forgive any grammatical errors

Michael was concerned.

Things had been going great when Harriet first arrived into his life, but after about a month of running around constantly and adjusting to a new erratic sleep schedule, he noticed that Vanessa seemed…..different. Her usual green dresses and gowns were replaced by an almost entirely black clothing wardrobe and her usual bright eyes seemed constantly red rimmed and blank. When he asked her if she was feeling alright, she merely stared at him and then down at the slumbering babe in his arms, before silently turning away and almost stalking down the long hallway connecting to their shared bedroom.

Another concern was that she never seemed to spend time with Harriet.

Whenever Michael offered their infant daughter to Vanessa to hold or to play with, she seemed to almost recoil in disgust before offering some flimsy excuse and walking off to somewhere else in the large manor. The maids assured him that she was just suffering from some postpartum depression, and that until she was used to her new hormone balance, she would have some trouble with her emotions and connecting with the baby. He felt so terrible that Vanessa was suffering so much and tried to keep himself and their child out of her way, to avoid any further upsets. While Michael was concerned that maybe Harriet might not get the abundance of nutrients from the formula she drank, Vanessa seemed too uncomfortable and unhappy during breastfeeding to even continue doing it, and their baby seemed to sense her distress as well, becoming agitated by it in return.

Harriet seemed to be doing well though. Her first two months of life seemed to mainly involve a lot eating, sleeping and pooping. Occasionally he would catch her staring almost in rapture at the small moon and stars decorating her room and her tiny hands would reach up as if to grab them and he made sure to buy more space themed toys for her to be amused by. Though he did spend a lot of time with his daughter, Michael still found himself with a good bit of time to spare, and after some thought and a notice to Vanessa's almost constant rips and tears in her dreary attire, he decided to take up sewing.

His first project ended up as a disaster, of course. He attempted to make a simple and cute blanket covered in little cut out fabric stars for Harriet, but they all lined up crooked on the fabric and the red thread he used clashed garishly with the soft baby blue blanket. Harriet at least seemed content with his attempt though, immediately grabbing onto as strong as her little arms could when he offered it to her and crying whenever he or the maids tried to take it away to be washed. 

At three months, his daughter started showing more complex mental abilities. She knew to lift her left pudgy leg up slightly whenever he dressed her, so he remembered to place one of her many tiny socks on her naked feet as he was prone to forget in his sleepy early morning daze. When one of the maids opened a green jar during bath time, she would begin to slap her arms excitedly against the side of the large sink, knowing that she would have a bubble bath instead. His daughter also loved to show off her increasingly large pile of plush toys he made for her, gurgling almost conversationally at whoever would listen about the lopsided moon penguin she held.

Vanessa still had not gotten any better.

His concern was reaching a max high as he realized that they had hardly spoken to each other in a month. While her doctor assured him that she was still adjusting to being a new mom and that Michael needed to just give her a little more time and patience. As long as he continued to support her and she stayed relatively stress free, his love would eventually return to her previous joyous self and Harriet could finally spend time with her wonderful mother. Just a little more time.

And then, a month later, everything changed.

* * *

Michael had to go back to school.

He had agreed to stay behind during his fall term to help take care of his newborn child, and every moment spent with her was a blessing, but spring soon arrived and he needed to return once more. He was a bit worried that he would miss some of Harriet’s baby milestones, and Vanessa still seemed to be struggling with her new life, but he needed to do this. For his parents and for the baby girl he was now in charge of. He would be sad to not see her for the next few months, but in order to take care of her and her mother properly, Michael had to go. 

Harriet seemed almost understanding of him, burbling almost solemnly as he held her and spoke to her one night in the nursery rocking chair. The maids gave strange, almost worried looks to each other when they spotted him digging through the closet for his suitcases and flipping through some of his law books, but he figured they were just nervous at the idea of taking care of Harriet full time for a few months. Hopefully, after his talk with Vanessa tonight, she would be more encouraged to try to connect with their daughter. Michael had planned a romantic candlelit dinner for the both of them on their bedroom balcony and he had even bought a bouquet of her favorite flowers to help warm her to the idea of him leaving for a short while. 

With a quick message to a nearby maid to grab his love and some time in their luxurious bathroom to clean himself up a bit, Michael grabbed the bouquet and stood out on the balcony to wait, excited to spend some time with his beloved and reconcile with her. She would be saddened by his departure but he knew their love would hold strong and when he returned from school, they would finally be legally wed. The rest of their lives would be perfect, him, her and their beautiful child would live happy and carefree.

It was going to be perfect.

* * *

Everything went so wrong. So horribly wrong.

The date had started off rocky when Vanessa showed up in a threadbare black dressing gown and haunted eyes. She had perked up a bit at his explanation of having a romantic dinner together as he offered the bouquet of flowers. They had sat down together and enjoyed a delicious dinner together and was halfway through dessert when Michael finally broke the news to her about him leaving in the spring.

Her rage was terrifying.

He knew her to have a temper, but this was something darker and more harrowing than any tantrum she had thrown before. Vanessa screamed at him about him abandoning her, toppling over her chair in her haste to throw herself across the table to get to him. Their plates and cups shattered against the stone flooring and he felt one of the candles burn his hand as it fell towards him. Her hands wrapped around his neck and they felt so cold, almost like ice.

“How could you do this to me?! I love you! I’ve always loved you! And yet all you do is lie and betray me!”

‘What are you talking about’ he wanted to ask. ‘What did I do to make you ever doubt my love for you?’

The firm grasp of her hands as they violently flexed around his neck made it impossible for him to even speak. His love seemed feral and wild with her bloodshot eyes bulging and her hair in large tangled chunks. The balcony door opened and one of the maids stepped through, barely hesitating at the sight of her mistress strangling him. In the distance background of Vanessa’s screaming, he heard the sound of an infant wailing.

‘Harriet’ he thought, before all faded to black.

* * *

He was a prisoner in his own home.

When he first woke up on the plush bedding of his bedroom, Michael thought he experienced nothing more than a horrible nightmare. He sat up in bed and leaned over to stand when his arms stopped moving with him, jerking his body to a halt. He startled and looked down at his appendages only to feel an immediate chilling horror.

There were large metal bands wrapped around his upper arms, connecting to linked chains that were screwed into the wall above the bed. They were tied enough around his biceps that when he jerked forward, he felt the blood in his arms cut off. He cried out for help only to immediately wince and cough afterwards, a sudden deep ache in his throat flaring up. 

The nursery room door opened and a maid stepped out. She made no eye contact with him and his painful calls to her fell on what seemed to be deaf ears. He struggled against his chains and felt one of his legs smack into the bedside table, knocking over a glass of water. The maid paused long enough to glance at the mess he made, before shooting him a disapproving look and walking out of the room silently. With every maid that came in throughout the day to attend to the nursery or replace the water glass he kept knocking over, his calls for help and panicking inquiries were met with nothing but silence.

Finally by the end of the night, when his throat hurt too much to even try and speak again, Vanessa appeared.

She wore the same attire as the night before and seemed unfazed and uncaring at the sight of him chained like an animal in their bedroom. She carried a bag, his school bag he realized, and a small stool. She placed the stool in front of the room's fireplace, ignoring his attempts to speak to her, and set the logs in the pit to a blaze. Michael watched in horror as she pulled out one of his many thick law books and callously tossed it into the flames.

“Vanessa! What are you doing?!”

She ignored him.

With every book she threw into the fireplace, the louder and angrier he felt himself become, until eventually he felt himself tire out, listlessly staring at the ceiling as the popping and sizzling of paper mockingly played in the background. After she had burned the last of his books, Vanessa merely doused the fire and left the room as silently as she came. 

She never spoke to him and after a couple of days of yelling, pleading, and crying, he never spoke to her either.

* * *

The maids would come in and feed him and he didn’t even bother to talk to them except to fruitlessly ask about his daughter. When they walked into the nursery to attend to Harriet, he tried to crane his head and twist his body in order to somehow find a glimpse of his child. He had not seen or heard anything about her for at least three weeks. Had Vanessa done something to her as well? Was she being taken care of properly? Did she miss him? He missed her. He missed her so, so much. Eventually, a maid he never seen before stopped in to attend to him, she hesitated at the sight of him and when he inquired about his daughter this time, she actually answered. 

“Well, I’ve only looked after her once or twice since I started this job, but she seems fine. She got a bit rowdy when I tried to take away her blanket, but otherwise she was a quiet little thing.”

She was okay. He was relieved that his baby was at least spared from this torture. Another couple of weeks passed by and while he was comforted by the fact that Harriet was being taken care of, he still worried and he began to eat less and less, the stress of his imprisonment twisting his guts and making it hard to keep down the food. Vanessa never came to visit him since the first time and he was glad to not see her face.

Michael was startled awake one night by loud, high pitched wailing. A maid rushed through the doors and into the nursery and for the first time in days, he struggled once more against his chains, concern for his child outweighing the fatigue of his failing body strength. His chains grew no weaker or looser and after thirty minutes of Harriet’s fussy noises and frantic shushing from the maid, the bedroom door slammed open and Vanessa stood there, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. He watched in horror as she stormed over to the nursery room and felt his lips curl into a snarl.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”

Vanessa halted and turned to look at him briefly, stunned by the absolute venom packed into his voice, before her rage returned tenfold. With a glare, she pivoted back towards the other room and slammed the door shut behind her. Michael felt a sudden adrenaline burst through his body, pulling hard enough against his chains to hear the groaning of the metal clamps screwed into the wall. His shouts joined in with Vanessa’s own, Harriet still crying all the while.

“Shut her up!” he heard Vanessa yell.

He couldn’t make out much from the maid’s voice other than the word ‘teething’ and ‘discomfort’. Michael felt his heart drop into his stomach when the loud sound of flesh slapping against flesh. There was a brief silence before Harriet _screamed_. The slapping happened again and he saw the maid rush out of the room, face pale and body trembling.

“What is she doing to her?” he asked numbly.

The maid seemed almost shocked to see him there, as if he hadn’t been locked in this _damn_ room for months now. He was stuck in this _fucking_ room and this _stupid_ woman wasn’t answering him! Michael started to scream towards the nursery instead of wasting his breath on her.

“ _Vanessa! What the hell are you doing to her?! You leave her alone, you cold hearted bitch!”_

He was so mad, so enraged. The maid seemed scared of him and his yelling and he was _glad._ They should be scared of him. They locked him up like some sort of _animal_ and now they were _hurting_ _his baby._ Vanessa was hurting _their child._ And he couldn’t do a damn thing about, body weak and arms still chained up like some sort of demented puppet, while his daughter suffered with him.

* * *

They escaped the night before Harriet’s first birthday.

He didn’t realize it till way after everything, his sense of time long blurred by his confinement. While he had tried several times to somehow force his way through sheer strength alone, his body was no match for the steel chains that bind him to the prison of his bedroom. He was starting to lose hope, heart becoming hardened and thoughts more violent bitter with every cruel action Vanessa took towards him and Harriet. His daughter hardly ever cried anymore and he wept from the pain of knowing why. 

Their salvation came at the end of a hellish week. Vanessa had come in a random and bitter mood and proceeded to bleach the entirety of the hair on his head and then cut his hair to look exactly like hers. She insanely rambled about how it was unfair that he and their child shared the same colored locks, when he was hers first. Jealousy was such a nasty color on others, but on Vanessa it seemed to turn her into even more of a monster then she already was. She gathered up the items she used and left, missing the scissors that had quietly fallen to the soft carpeting on the floor in her excitement.

Michael had to use his feet and legs at very awkward angles, but he was able to lift the scissors up enough to grab them with his hands. With shaking hands, he painstakingly unscrewed the small screwheads on the wall clamps, several times slipping and cutting open his hands. After what felt like forever, the first clamp fell off the wall and his left arm was free. He felt a brief moment of disbelief and excitement before he hurriedly moved to unscrew the other clamp.

Now standing free on his feet for the first time in what must have been months, Michael J. Prince felt hope.

The first thing he did after he freed himself was rush to his daughter’s side. The chains clanked against each other, but he had no time to stop and think of a way to remove them. Upon entering the room, he noticed that a film of dust seemed to have covered the furniture and toys. 

‘Did they even take her out of her crib?’ he angrily thought.

He reached the side of the crib and peered in, eagerly tracing over the now larger baby resting beneath her favorite star covered blanket. His daughter's hair was longer now, he noticed, and he saw the faintest outline of teeth poking out of her gums as she chewed on her moon penguin plush in sleep. How old was she now? How long were they locked up? He shook his grief away.

They needed to leave.

Escaping the actual manor was comically easy. The maids were all in bed and Vanessa was a heavy sleeper, so when Michael walked down the hallways, Harriet curled up in his arms and his old school bag strapped over his shoulder, stuffed full of various things he had grabbed, he ran at full speed. Down the grand staircase, out the front doors, up the winding pathway and shooting through the large gate at the end.

A gentle rumble of thunder echoed in the distance and he felt the slight sprinkling of rain start to fall on top of his head. Harriet began to shift and whine in his hold, but he was too focused out weaving through the approaching city streets and lights to stop and soothe her back to sleep. Distantly he heard the chime of the city hall click, signaling the hail of midnight and a sudden onslaught of heavy rain forced him into a nearby alley, taking cover by the side of the building.

The thunder and rain pelted down into the alleyway, his hair and face becoming soaked. Staring down into the sniffling baby girl in his arms, protected only by the heavy blanket covering her body, he whispered, lost and confused.

“What are we gonna do now, kiddo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone start saying your goodbyes to michael. hes not gonna be around for much longer.  
> as always comments and kudos are appreciated and feel free to yell at me on my tumblr berryfartsart


	4. Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's the new chapter. yay!  
> i didnt upload yesterday cause i slept all day

The Subcon City Police Department coffee was horrible.

Michael shifted in the cheap leather seat that he was hunched over in, a styrofoam cup filled with what could pass off as engine oil clutched between his hands. A quick glance to the seat to his right assured him that his daughter was still asleep, swathed comfortably into her blanket and a towel that one of the officers had given them to dry off with. They both sat in the sheriff’s office, a large mahogany desk situated in front of their seats held the only source of light in the room in the form of a cheap desk lamp.

The door to the office swung open and Michael sat up as Sheriff Nestor entered, juggling what seemed to be several written forms, a box of donuts and two large cups of coffee. He looked unprofessional in his floral button up shirt and brown khakis, but Michael figured the late hour and almost non-existence crime rate in Subcon contributed to the lax attire. He watched as the sheriff finally made it to his desk, throwing the papers down with a plop loud enough to make him glance over nervously at the sleeping baby in the office. When he noticed she was still sleeping, he sighed and handed one of the two cups to Michael.

“Here, I figured you might need a refill.”

Michael glanced down at the almost full cup of coffee he still held, but politely accepted the newer cup, setting both quietly out of sight on the floor when the sheriff moved to sit down in his large office chair. 

“So,” Sheriff Nestor began, snatching one of the donuts out of the plastic box “what’s this about a, uh,” he glanced down at the chains still wrapped around the other’s arms. “Imprisonment and assault charge?”

“And abuse against a minor.” Michael reminded, his hands clenching into the arms of his chair as his mind flashed to the purple splotches that covered Harriet’s small form. He reached one hand over to her instinctively, softly placing it on top of her small chest to feel the rise and fall of her breathing. He felt himself relax at the reminder that she was still alive and here with him.

The sheriff shuffled in his chair, clearing his throat out of an obvious discomfort. “Right, uh, that too.”

“Well it’s as I told your deputy, sir. My  _ fiance _ ,” Michael felt his teeth grit and the gold band in his back pocket seemed to burn him “went crazy and locked me and our daughter in her mansion. She needs to be arrested and charged immediately before she finds out we escaped.”

Sheriff Nestor nodded solemnly and opened his desk, searching for something. Michael felt his gaze start to wander onto the many picture frames that adorned the top of the desk, noticing them all to be photos from previous vacations. 

“And your fiance’s name?”

“Vanessa McQueen.” he answered automatically, attention caught by -was that a bird attacking the camera?- one of the photos. It took him awhile to notice the sudden silence and when he glanced up he noticed that Sheriff Nestor’s face seemed pale under the poor lighting in the room. The man suddenly stood up from his chair and cleared his throat.

“Right,” sweat dripped down the side of his bald head “I need to go grab some, er, pens. Sit tight for a sec and when I get back we’ll get this sorted out, Mr. Prince.” And with that the man made a swift exit.

‘That was weird.” Michael thought, tired eyes trailing back to the mass of picture frames on the man’s desk. He looked towards the last image on the far right side of the desk. ‘He seemed kind of upset-’

He froze.

The last picture had two figures standing in it. One of Sheriff Nestor, smiling wide and holding onto one side of a comically large check, and on the other side with her small stature and long blond hair and bright blue eyes stood-

Shit.

Michael immediately lurched out of his chair, grabbing Harriet and running to the door. His hand wrapped around the doorknob, but it did not turn.

_ Shit, shit, shit. _

Of course the police were in Vanessa’s pocket. How many times did she complain about the boring galas and fundraisers the city threw in her honor? The large amounts of money she sent to the police force was a yearly tradition in her family’s long history and Michael was a fool to have forgotten that. The sheriff was probably calling Vanessa at that very moment.

They needed to leave. Now.

The window in the sheriff’s office stuck a bit, but with some force Michael was able to ram it open enough for him and Harriet to slide through. He thanked whoever built the building for only making it one story high and sped off down the streets, his shoes slapping wetly against the large puddles that covered the streets. The rain had at least stopped, but Subcon was dead quiet and empty, leaving him still panicked and alone.

Where could they go? If Vanessa had control over the police then she probably had her hands in the pockets of every official in the city. They had to get out of Subcon somehow. If they were caught, who knew what Vanessa would do to him. To Harriet. He stood at an empty intersection, lost and confused as to what to do.

“Pardon me. Are you alright?”

Michael jumped and turned, clutching his daughter closer to his chest, her sniffling alerting him that she was now awake. A large figure stood under the awning of a bus station, a large knapsack and walking stick sitting atop the bench. One green eye stared at him from beneath a purple hood, the other eye a milky white, and the stranger raised their black clad arms in a friendly surrender. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you, but you looked like you needed some help.” Their eyes pointedly glanced over the chains and the fussy babe in Michael’s arms.

“I-”

The sudden sound of walkie talkies and barking dogs caught both of their attention and the sound of pressurized gas signified an approaching bus. Michael jerked in surprise as weighted cloth slapped over his head, covering him and his child in large, white fabric. The bus stopped in front of the two adults just as he was able to catch sight of two police officers and their canine companions rushing down the streets.

“Hurry up! Quickly!”

The stranger beckoned to Michael from atop the steps of the bus, holding the doors open with their large staff. Michael took one last glance towards the officers before stumbling aboard. The doors hiss closed and with a small jerk, the bus set off.

* * *

“They call me Badge Seller, for badges are what I sell. Of course, I also sell other items, but no one seems to care about those.”

The two adults sat in the far back of the bus, the driver too exhausted to give either of them more than a passing glance. Harriet sat up behind him against one of the seats, suckling on a premade bottle that Michael had grabbed from the nursery minifridge before they left the manor. Badge Seller sat in the seats across from them, knapsack and staff sat off to the side and their hood pulled down. Thick scarring covered most of their face and while that combined with their crooked teeth may have been visually off putting, Michael felt at an ease in their presence. It had helped that as soon as they all sat down the merchant offered to undo the metal chains wrapped around his arms, pulling out a set of lockpicks before setting to work. 

After thirty minutes of clinking and the occasional curse from Badge Seller, he was finally free.

Michael delicately prodded against the bruised and swollen flesh left behind, deep cuts surrounded where the rim of the chains used to be. The Badge Seller pulled a first aid kit out of their large knapsack and carefully dressed his wounds, sadly informing him that they would probably scar. Michael didn’t care, just thankful that he and Harriet were alive and out of that hell house. He pulled down one of the bus windows and chucked the chains out of it. The blaring sound of a passing car alarm left the Badge Seller shocked and Harriet clapping giddily.

“Well that’s one way to get rid of them, I suppose.”

After Harriet had been fed, burped and changed, she dozed back into a slumber. As the babe slept, Michael finally fell back against his seat in exhaustion. The Badge Seller watched him quietly.

“I will not ask your story, for your safety and mine, but I will offer my assistance.”

Michael turned his head, staring blankly at the other. 

“What’s in it for you?” he asked.

“Nothing. I too know what it is like to be caged and I hate to see another suffer from the same things I have.” They stroked absentmindedly against the side of their face, fingers gently trailing along the raised side of one of the scars. They then dug through their bag, pulling out a flyer and a small box before handing both items over to Michael. 

He glanced over the blue flyer, large blocky letters floating above a bulky man wearing a blue pinstripe suit who was holding a fish.

“Mafia Town?”

Badge Seller nodded.

“Yes, the town is openly run by a large crime syndicate, so background checks and nosy people are not a common occurrence. Anyone who would want to disappear or make a new life for themselves would find themselves quite comfortable there.”

“Except for the huge crime syndicate that runs the city.” he responded dryly. Badge Seller shrugged.

“As long as you don’t threaten them or borrow any money, the mafia stays out of the citizens hair. They spend more time lounging about on the beach then actually doing crimes.”

Michael hummed and looked at the small box in his other hand. He squinted at the model staring seductively back at him.

“Is this hair dye?”

“Yes, sadly I don’t sell much of the stuff so I only have Lusty Lavender in stock currently. As lovely as your hair is right now, it will be harder for the authority to recognize you as we travel. Plus, your roots are showing, now would be a good time for a touchup, no?”

* * *

He stood outside the large walled gate leading into Mafia Town, his bag on one shoulder and Harriet lain against the other, her bright eyes staring in wonder at the structure . As Badge Seller described there were no border patrols or identification checks, just a sole mafia gang member leaning against the gate, another sitting in a small booth with a long line of travelers leading to it. The long nomad robes that him and his daughter wore helped blend them into the multicultural crowd of people. 

They parted ways with Badge Seller about two days back, the merchant getting off on a stop at the Nyakuza Metro transfer station. The hooded figure gave them a small robe for Harriet and shiny metal badge for him before wishing them good luck and departing. After their companion’s departure, they only had to transfer to another bus one time before heading towards their current location. Their original bus driver seemed happy to have them gone, probably irritated by the purple stained bathroom in the back of the bus.

Michael snapped to attention as the line shuffled forward, leaving him next in line. Harriet cooed in his ear and when he glanced over at her, she leaned forward and gave a sloppy kiss on the side of his face, seeming almost smug at his face scrunching up dramatically at her actions. He smooched her back just as sloppily and she squealed, her tiny hands bopping lightly against his face.

“Dada!”

He gasped, almost dropping her from the shock. She smiled and slapped playfully at his face again.

“Dada!”

Michael’s eyes watered and his heart soared, the sudden surge of happiness almost overwhelming and suffocating after the months of misery and pain. They were safe.  _ She  _ was safe. The bruises on her small body had long faded and her spirit seemed unmarred by their time in captivity and he was so grateful. He would bear every painful memory and scar and be so grateful that she remained strong and happy despite everything.

His beautiful, wonderful child. 

“Crying man is holding up line! Wasting Mafia’s time!”

He startled back into the present, stumbling up to the front of the wooden booth. The man behind the counter gave him a rude look, but Michael was too happy to care. He slapped down the small entrance fee and was handed an entrance token for the guard to take when they entered the city. The mafia member pulled over a clipboard and nodded to the baby in his arms. 

“What is small child’s name? All must be accounted for in Mafia Town.”

He had worked out their names on the bus ride over and he stated almost proudly to the guard.

“Harriet King.”

The mafia man grumbled in confirmation and scribbled the name down.

“And what is crying man’s name?”

His daughter clutched onto his long purple hair and as gold eyes stared lovingly into her baby blue, he answered.

“Snatcher King.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did anyone catch what game character the sheriff was? i hope so  
> i also loved that a lot of people thought i was going to straight up murder michael. i think hes been through enough without me reviving his corpse somehow. this au more borders on reality so magic isnt really a thing, sorry. snatchers past self is dead now however, who he was as a person and the life he had before is no longer a part of him, by entering mafia town he is essentially wiping the slate clean and burning who he was.  
> however as we all know, the past is still a part of you and you can't escape from it forever :)
> 
> as always comments and kudos are appreciated! i love talking with you guys and you can yell at me on my tumblr berryfartsart


	5. Legal Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha i totally just worked and slept for the last week. oops? this chapter also wasnt edited so please forgive. anyways heres the next chapter, enjoy!

There was definitely a mouse living in their apartment.

Snatcher scrunched his nose at the small pile of droppings and cotton shreddings he found in the corner of his daughters closet. The small toy plush of an owl laid in the middle of the mess, a gaping hole ripped into its neck where the cotton originated from. It wasn’t one of Harriet’s favorites that he made for her so he doubted she would notice it being thrown out. After returning with some gloves, a trash can and some tinfoil, Snatcher quickly cleaned up the mess, shoving a small wad of the tinfoil into the small hole at the bottom of the closet.

Mouse problem and low doorways aside, their new home was actually a pretty good deal. Snatcher and his daughter only had to live out of a nearby motel for a week before he found a flyer advertising an open flat in the downtown area of Mafia Town. Their power and water were paid for and the rent was almost dirt cheap, though that was probably because of the amount of shady characters that lived in the building as well. Snatcher had the feeling of eyes on him and his daughter at all times, but kept his head low and Harriet close to his chest whenever they went out to the nearby park for some sunshine. 

Snatcher stopped in the middle of removing his latex gloves, silently staring ahead out the dirty kitchen window. His brow furrowed and he glanced over at Harriet in the living room where she laid on her stomach, playing quietly with some of her toys. He hadn't noticed it for a few days, too busy frantically searching and applying for jobs throughout the city, but Harriet was a lot quieter and less developed then what she was supposed to be at her age. The parent books he had read a while back had stated that most babies at her age should have been attempting to stand and talk, eager to explore the world around them.

Harriet would barely even crawl a few feet to get a nearby toy.

Had her isolation been that harsh on her motor functions? Before the  _ incident  _ his daughter had been freely crawling about, babbling happily at whatever peaked her interest. Now she barely made a sound, babbling only to herself whenever he was out of sight. She sat in place wherever he put her, not even whining when it was out of reach of an object she clearly wanted. Why had she regressed so much?

Snatcher gritted his teeth as yellow and purple bruising flashed into his mind and just as quickly left. 

Right. That.

He wasn’t sure what to do about that.

He moved to lean against the kitchen doorway, slouched slightly to avoid touching the top. He stared at Harriet, watching as she half heartedly tried to place a star shaped block into a circle shaped hole. As if sensing his gaze, she froze and turned to look at him, eyes wide and body stiffened in preparation for something. Snatcher clenched his jaw in order to force down the frown he felt trying to take over his face, not wanting to show the one year old any sign of negativity. Instead he forced a wide grin on his face and walked over to sit with her on the floor, slowly picking up a blue circle block and showing it to her.

“This is the right shape, princess.”

His daughter furrowed her brow at the small block in his hand, glancing at his eyes occasionally, before looking down at the star block in her own hand. He could practically see the wheels in her mind turning over as she stared back at the circle he held out to her. Hesitantly, Harriet put down her original block and reached her small hand to grab the right one, her pudgy fingers fumbling slightly as she gripped onto it. Snatcher felt the smile on his face become more genuine as she pulled the block out of his hand, placing it into the small hole in front of her. As it slid through and plonked at the bottom of the box, a small bell sounded from the toy and lights flashed. His daughter gave a delighted gasp and watched the lights in awe, eventually turning to look at him and smiling widely at him, a small happy babble directed at her father. Snatcher felt the tightness in his chest loosen a bit, relief rushing over him.

They’d both be alright, eventually.

They both just needed a bit more time.

* * *

He found a job working as a part time paralegal at the local courthouse.

The job itself was easy. Most of his duties involved coffee runs and sorting through the huge pile of paperwork that the courthouse lawyers left lying around their offices. Snatcher occasionally sat in during a trial, carefully handing out whatever form or item his assigned lawyer requested, but he wished he was the one standing in the middle of the room, asking questions and striking out injustice. A small part of him regretted even going to law school though, as he spent almost the entirety of his inheritance to attend it. He still had a small amount leftover, enough to keep him and his daughter afloat for a couple of months, but he definitely needed this job.

And as far as he was concerned, his dreams died months ago.

Right now he needed to stay in reality, filing papers that would probably be once again disorganized in a couple of hours, and shoving down the worry he felt about leaving his child alone at home. Snatcher hadn’t found a babysitter yet for Harriet, not really able to afford paying a person to watch his kid five days out of the week. While he did work part time, he worked enough hours to almost be considered full time, his workplace purposely falling short an hour so they wouldn’t have to pay him full time with benefits. His pay definitely wouldn’t be enough to pay rent this month if he didn’t have his savings. For now all Snatcher could hope was that Harriet stayed asleep the few hours he was away and that he’d eventually get a raise or full time position.

The day so far was slow. There were no trials and the lawyers hadn’t even bothered to come in. Snatcher sat in one office, boredly shuffling some papers in order and wondering if he would be able to leave early today when shouting started up outside the door. 

“Sir, please, there’s no one here who can help you-”

“Mafia does not care about excuses! Boss wants to see lawyer now!”

“I’m telling you there’s no one here right now-”

“Wait, fellow Mafia. Mafia sees light in office.”

Snatcher jumped as the door suddenly slammed open, two suited identical men shoving themselves through the doorway. As they stood to the sides of the door, a smaller man walked in, a chef hat adorning his head as if it were a crown. Bewildered, all Snatcher could do was watch as the short man sat down in the chair in front of the desk he was sitting at. The man nodded at him.

“I am in need of your assistance, lawyer man.”

Snatcher instantly snapped to attention, eyes slightly narrowing and glancing towards the door as it was shut by one of the guards. He cleared his throat and raised his shoulders back, refusing to be intimidated.

“I’m afraid you are mistaken, sir. I’m not a lawyer, just a paralegal.”

The man in front of him squinted at Snatcher in confusion.

“What is this… pair of eagle?”

“Paralegal” Snatcher corrected “I’m just the assistant of this office. I only have the authority to research cases and occasionally draw up some small time contracts.” 

The hatted man perked and smiled. “Ah! So you are lawyer man!”

Snatcher felt his right eye twitch.

“No, as I stated before, sir, I am just an assistant-”

“Enough of your talk, lawyer man, I have problem that needs to be solved.” The man gestured back at one of his guards and was handed a rolled up scroll and a bag.

Snatcher could feel himself getting a headache and was preparing to once again remind the man in front of him that he wasn’t an actual lawyer, when said man threw the pouch onto the desk, its contents spilling out on top.

Snatcher froze.

The amount of green pons that filled the small bag was enough to cover his rent for at least three months, with enough leftover to buy Harriet the high quality formula that he used to purchase for her. Snatcher looked up from the bag to see the hatted man smirking at him.

“Do I have your attention now?”

Snatcher cleared his throat and pushed the bag back towards the other.

“Yes, but that still doesn’t change the fact that I am not a lawyer. I can’t help you.”

The other man rolled his eyes.

“You sit in office, you wear suit and you do lawyer things like contracts. This sounds like perfect lawyer to me, I have no need for anything else from lawyer man.” 

“So… you just need someone to make contracts for you? Why?”

The hatted man nodded at Snatcher, handing over the scroll he was holding.

“Mafia is above law in this town, easy to pay off bail or jury, but sometimes Mafia needs better insurance or iron clad deals for… business endeavors. Legal loopholes you might say.”

Snatcher paused his reading over the scroll, glancing back over to the man. The document didn’t have much written on it other than a time, date and location. Legal loopholes? Snatcher had heard of cases like that during his schooling, incidents where a victim of insurance fraud or a liability charge couldn’t be paid the compensation they wanted because they couldn’t decipher the terminology or hidden wording within the contract they signed. He had always had mixed feelings about those kinds of cases, the cruelty of tricking someone mixed in with the admiration of complex wording and trickery. He spent a whole semester self studying the art of writing and deciphering written contracts in hopes of finding ways to help anyone who fell into the legal loophole trap. Now, he was being asked to become one of the same villains who wrote the damn things.

“And what if I say no?”

The other man shrugged, starting to stand up out of his seat and head for the door.

“If lawyer man wishes to not be hired then that is lawyer man’s decision. Nothing Mafia has said or would ask of you would even get lawyer man in trouble. But, if lawyer man does join then you will have protection and benefits of being part of Mafia’s family.”

The man stopped as one of his guards opened the door, looking back at Snatcher one last time.

“Think of money bag as gift, if lawyer man shows up at meeting, you will be paid even more. Mafia hope to see you there.”

With a smirk and a wave of his hand, the hatted man walked out the door, his guards following.

Snatcher fell back into his seat, muscles finally relaxing. He knew the man and his guards left the office when his fellow paralegal assistant shakily poked her into the office to check on him. He assured her that he was fine and that he was going to head home early. With an understanding nod, she returned to her own work, leaving Snatcher to collect his work bag and the small pouch full of pons. He felt almost dazed as he made his way back to the apartment.

Harriet was wide awake when he checked on her in her room, and a quick check of her diaper assured him that she didn’t have any accidents while he was gone. While he heated up a bottle of formula, Snatcher distractedly hummed a little tune to his daughter as he stared out the kitchen window, barely noticing her tiny fingers gently gripping onto his long hair. The bag of pons laid open on the nearby table, some already spent on some groceries he bought on the walk home. The microwave dinged and Snatcher pulled out the high quality drink, handing it to his daughter to consume. 

Outside, it began to rain.

* * *

The meeting place was at a strange restaurant.

Snatcher squinted his eyes around the establishment, sitting comfortably at a bar. The establishment seemed to have a casino in the front area, a small restaurant to the side and a theater in the back. He wondered if the place was specially built this way or if it came like this. When his watch alarm beeped, the bartender gestured to the small hatch behind the bar. Snatcher pulled the door up, revealing a long staircase leading down into a carpeted meeting room.

Definitely custom made.

The hatted man from before sat at the head of a large table. When he noticed Snatcher enter the room, he gestured to the seat to his left side. Snatcher sat down, immediately noticing the small pile of expensive, thick paper stock on the table in front of him. To his right was an unopened ink pot and a large, golden feather pen. It was a bit old school and definitely heftier to hold then a regular ink pen, but Snatcher found himself liking it. He practiced a few lines of writing before tossing the used papers into the shredder placed beside his seat, capping the ink pot once more and nodding at the man beside him.

The hatted man gestured to some guards near the hatch and after a bit, one of them returned with an frail old man who shook slightly out of fear. Snatcher swallowed down the sudden rock he felt in his throat and forced his face to stay blank and uncaring as the old man was led to the chair opposite of the hatted man. 

“So,” the man drawled, fingers steepled under his chin. “You have come to borrow money from Mafia, yes? Mafia of course will help you, but you must understand that Mafia must have legal documentation and obligations of your transaction with Mafia.”

The old man shook for a bit before nodding hesitantly in agreement. The hatted man smiled.

“Excellent, you may call me Mafia Boss. Let us work out good deal for you and Mafia, friend.”

With that, Snatcher picked up his feather pen and began to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didnt really care much for this chapter cause i was struggling to write but i hope you guys liked it either way
> 
> also while i do have an outline for this story figured out, if you guys have anything you want to see or know, feel free to tell me and i might incorporate it into the story. 
> 
> as always comments and kudos are deeply appreciated and you can yell at me on my tumblr berryfartsart


	6. Terrible Two's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha woops, its been like 3 months my dudes. thanks to ahatintimepieces on tumblr for tagging me in a post and reminding me that this fic existed. sorry ! 
> 
> once again, a reminder that snatcher is a single dad and parents are just as human as the rest of us. its the capability of acknowledging a mistake and learning from it that makes a parent a good one.
> 
> didnt edit or proofread so ; )

Working for the Mafia was actually a lot easier and relaxing then Snatcher thought it would be.

With the contract jobs paying enough to cover the rent easily, he could quit his part time job and spend a bit more time at home with his daughter before leaving for his new nightlife. His mornings were usually spent waking Harriet up for breakfast and some playtime before their afternoon nap after lunch, after which they would both wake up for an early dinner and some last minute playtime to tire Harriet out for bed as he got ready to leave for work.

Thankfully his daughter was able to eat mostly solid foods these days, so Snatcher could take some time to actually style his hair and properly iron his suit while she ate in her high chair. Before ~~**_Her_ ** ~~ his hair was cut short and curled near the ends, now it was mid-back length and curled in almost symmetrical portions which made it easier for Snatcher to braid or tie up into a bun when the outside weather got a bit on the humid side. 

Sometimes when Snatcher looked into the cracked bathroom mirror, he thought he almost looked like his mother’s spitting image when she was his age, minus the purple hair coloring. He scrunched his face, eyes hovering closely to the glass of the mirror as he stared down the reddish-brown roots spreading from the top of his head.

Right. The purple hair.

They had been living in the city for almost a year now, and yet somehow every time Snatcher went to purchase his monthly supply of hair dye, Lusty Lavender was the only color in stock. He would have blamed the local teenagers of the town but to be honest, he didn’t see a lot of people that weren’t Mafia gang members, and they certainly couldn’t use any hair dye with their apparent shared genetics of male pattern baldness. He couldn’t risk his daughters safety over something so ridiculous as hair color anyways, so Lusty Lavender it was then. Besides, Harriet certainly didn’t seem to mind it.

Snatcher hummed a little, glancing over to the small two year old sitting quietly on the closed lid of the toilet seat beside him, staring down at a picture book filled with cartoonish images of the planetary system and their moons. Harriet’s hair had grown out enough by now to have it tied up in two neat little pigtails that she for some reason loved to cover with an old, yellow knit beanie he used to wear in college. He had found it crammed away into one of the small pouches of his school bag and Harriet immediately plonked it on top of her head and refused to take it off, using one of her rare speaking moments to tell Snatcher for the first time in her life, ‘No!’.

He’s so proud of her.

“Princess?”

Harriet’s head immediately jerked away from her book, blue eyes glittering up at her father, always happy to have his attention ~~**unlike before** ~~. She closed her book and hopped down from her proverbial throne, her small little light up shoes blinking on briefly at the floor’s impact to them. She tilted her head a bit and reached a small hand out to grab onto his jeans.

“Daddy done?” she questioned.

Snatcher smiled and nodded at her, swooping down to pick her up and give her a small smooch to her chubby cheek. “Yes, Daddy is done. Are you ready to go shopping? We have a lot to get today, so you’ll have to bring your backpack.”

“Back!”, she shrieked with excitement, wiggling enough for him to put her down in fear of dropping her. Harriet raced out of the bathroom, the rolled up beanie on her head bouncing along with the small bits of her low hanging pigtails, her light up shoes flashing in a mirror image of their owners happiness at the moment.

“Make sure you put the book up!” Her father called after her, shaking his head and smiling at the confirming ‘Book!’ called back to him. With one last glance to the bathroom mirror and the creeping shades of red flashing through the faded lilac on his head, Snatcher turned the lights off and shut the door behind him to join his daughter.

* * *

Mafia Town had a very few selection of stores to choose from and one large open marketplace. The huge black tent that took up a good amount of space near the loading docks could technically count as a store as well, but certainly not one Snatcher ever planned on Harriet entering. While most of the shops were Mafia run, they actually offered a broad range of products for all sorts of people to enjoy, including the strange, cat-shaped chocolate cookies that Harriet liked to snack on occasionally. He hoped those weren’t super unhealthy for her, seeing as he couldn’t read the foreign letters that covered the entirety of the bag.

Snatcher squinted suspiciously down to the open bag of said cookies in his daughters hands, Harriet happily munching away next to him as the Mafia man behind the checkout counter scanned the box of hair dye and tube of toothpaste they were purchasing along with the seven bags of cat cookies. Harriet caught his stare and smiled widely at him, streaks of chocolate covering the corners of her mouth and messing the bottom pads of her fingers, causing his worried thoughts to dissipate at the sight of his daughter enjoying herself so openly in public. Snatcher turned his head back to the cashier in time for the total sum of their purchase to pop up on the small transaction screen in front of them. He nearly froze at the high price range before remembering something and relaxing.

“I have a family discount.” he stated, flashing the fish token inside his jacket pocket to the other man.

The cashier nodded, “Ah, fellow Mafia! Mafia did not recognize your weak body shape and long, flowing hair. Fellow Mafia pay only regular price for items, then!” And with a small press on his screen, the total was knocked down to half of its original cost. “Would fellow Mafia like receipt?”

“No, thanks.” Snatcher dryly said, grabbing his daughter and the small plastic bag the cashier held out to him before walking out of the sliding glass doors. Harriet pulled on his hair with her chocolate covered hand to signal him to put her down, and once he did, she plopped her galaxy themed backpack onto the sidewalk to neatly pack her open bag of snacks away before sliding it right back onto her back. She stared up at her father as he gazed into the reflection of his image in the grocery store window, blinking quietly at him when he turned to look at her with a furrowed brow.

“Daddy doesn’t have a weak body...does he?” He mumbled to her. Harriet simply stared at him before gently patting his leg and toddling away down the streets.

“Harriet? Princess? Daddy’s not weak is he- hey, wait, don’t walk so far away from me! Harriet!”

* * *

Snatcher was glad that Harriet wasn’t fussy when it came to clothes shopping. She seemed to genuinely enjoy trying on new outfits and since she was a little older now, she would undress and dress herself almost completely without his assistance. He still picked out her outfits though, seeing as turning two did not magically give his daughter any sense of style or coordination. While she was still struggling to talk a lot out loud, Harriet was physically growing at a good rate, although Snatcher mourned the loss of her cute little purple overall shorts that he bought two months ago that no longer fit her.

Harriet seemed to mainly follow after him in color choices, favoring the same purple and yellow schemes he stuck to, but didn’t shy away from other colors and patterns. It made it easy for them to reach compromises when there wasn’t a piece of clothing in the exact color she wanted. He personally hadn’t worn red since they arrived in this town and he wasn’t planning on wearing it anytime soon either, although seeing Harriet in her little burgundy sundress from time to time was nice. No, the only thing his daughter couldn’t wear was- 

“Daddy, look!”

Snatcher turned his attention away from the rack of clothes he was perusing through to his child.

“Yes, Princess-”

He froze, heart racing and fingers clenching into the plush fabric of a neon pink sweater he was looking at.

Green.

~~**Green.** ~~

~~**GREEN** ~~

“Daddy?”

The dress was ~~**_her color her color_**~~ green and draped down to the bottom of Harriet’s light up shoes, smothering the small flashes of light that would otherwise be there if not for the thick fabric of **_~~her~~ _**the dress. Harriet seemed to have shoved it right over the top of her current clothes, the fabric bulging and bunching up where her shirt underneath was caught up in the fabric, small green ~~**_GREEN_**~~ diamonds randomly patterned the long skirt. 

~~**_Vanessa would have loved it._ ** ~~

“Daddy!”

Micha- no. ~~**Snatcher** ~~ snapped back to the present, the seams of the sweater in his hands popping and ripping open from the tight grip of his hands. He quickly let go of it and turned closed his eyes, his empty fists shaking and curling to his sides.

~~**_He never realized how much she looked like her mother until she was staring up at him with those same blue eyes, enrobed in green fabric and lace._ ** ~~

“Daddy-”

“Take that off.” He interrupted. Opening his eyes and attempting to burn off his sudden anxious energy by aggressively digging through the clothes in front of him again, blindly staring at each passing article of clothing.

“No! Pretty!”

“We’re not getting it. Put it back.”

“No!”

“I won’t ask again. Put it back. Now.”

“N-”

“Harriet King!” Snatcher hissed, whipping around angrily to shove his face down towards his daughter, lightly grabbing her arm to pull her closer to him. “We are not getting that dress. Go put it back. **Now**.” 

He realized he messed up as soon as he felt the small arm in his hold start shaking, baby blue eyes becoming cloudy behind a wall of tears that was forming. Harriet’s whole face was slackened into a neutral expression, but the water seeping out of the corner of her eyes and the clench of her jaw screamed of upset and fear. Snatcher immediately let go of her like he was burnt and hovered his hands awkwardly around her, wanting to comfort but too afraid of worsening the issue.

“Harriet, Princess, I’m so sorry. Daddy didn’t mean to-”

“Mean.”

Snatcher’s mouth promptly slammed shut.

“Daddy mean.” Harriet warbled out, hands clenching into the sides of the dress as her whole body seemed to shake from her suppressed upset. She bundled up the cloth in her hands and practically ripped the dress right over her head before weakly tossing it as hard as she could at her father. “Mean!”

“Harriet-”

“Go home.” She interrupted.

“Home?” Snatcher quietly questioned.

“Wanna go home.” His daughter replied, immediately walking away from him and picking her backpack off the floor near a rack full of the dresses. She stood there silently, eyes still tear filled and glared down at the floor of the boutique. 

“We haven’t gotten any clothes for you yet, if we go home now-”

“Home. Now.”

“Alright.” Snatcher gently informed her, tiredly rubbing at the middle of his eyebrows. “Alright, we’ll go home, sweetie.”

He hung the dress back onto an empty hanger and promptly shoved it on a random rack, hoping it got lost or stolen somehow while they were gone. They both left the store, Snatcher nodding to the Mafia man at the front desk while a sullen Harriet followed after him out the front door. When they went to cross the street, Snatcher silently held out his hand, watching as she briefly glanced at his palm before slotting her smaller one against it, looking down at the ground once again.

Snatcher sighed and looked up at the crosswalk signal, waiting for it to turn green.

* * *

When they arrived home, Harriet immediately tossed her backpack down onto the couch before running to her room. Snatcher quietly picked up the discarded bag and placed it on its little hook beside Harriet’s personal little bookshelf. He placed the plastic grocery bag full of cat cookies on the kitchen counter before grabbing the hair dye out of it and headed towards the bathroom. On his way, he stopped to lean his ear against the closed door of Harriet's bedroom, listening to the small sobbing noises coming from within. 

He kept walking.

Flicking on the lights and tossing the box into the sink, Snatcher placed his elbows on the edges of the sink, hands reaching up to cradle his head as he bowed over the bowl of the sink, staring down into the hole of the drain, as if it held all the answers he seeked. He heaved out a great sigh and roughly ran his hands back and forth through his hair before stopping at glancing at his reflection in the small, cracked mirror.

He never realized how tired he looked. 

Snatcher let out another sigh before lifting his gaze to the top of his head, the reddish-brown streaks still there and seeming more obvious than ever. He glanced down at the sultry woman modeled on the front of the dye box and lifted himself up, the sink slightly creaking from the disappearing weight of his forearms. Snatcher threw off his sweater and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, careful to roll them just below the thick band of scarred tissue that wrapped around the tops of both of his arms, before grabbing a stained towel from the linen closet next to the sink.

“Okay.” He said, gold eyes staring back at him through his reflection. Box opened and its contents spilled across the bathroom counter. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

Harriet felt tired.

She wasn’t sure how long she had cried in her room. The plush carpeting of her rug not offering any comfort to her. Her stuffed animals helped her none either, their beady eyes and stitched smiles all seeming to laugh at her. She hadn’t heard any noise from her father either, which at the beginning was just fine with her, but now left her lonely and craving a hug. 

Harriet sniffled and sat up, face dry and itchy from all the tears she wept out and rubbing her hands against her eyes didn’t help ease the ache any less. The light filtered through her blinds let her know it was getting dark, which was usually when Snatcher started getting ready for work, but he had the day off today. 

She missed him.

When she had found the pretty dress in the shop, she was so excited to show her daddy. He always called her his ‘Princess’ and Harriet knew in her fairytale picture books that he read to her that all princesses wore long, poofy dresses like the one she found in the store. She thought he would be so happy to see her in it. But apparently, she was wrong and now her father hated her.

Harriet sniffled again, wanting to cry all over again, but her eyes ached and refused to water anymore. She rubbed at the irritation once more before standing up and walking over to her door, cracking it open and peering down the long, dark hallway. There was a reflection of light down one end that indicated that someone was in the kitchen and she quietly creeped her way in that direction. Once she reached the kitchen threshold, Harriet peeked her eyes around the corner, staring at the tall figure of her father standing at the stovetop, stirring a wooden spoon into a metal pot.

Her father immediately glanced at her direction, causing her to flinch and duck behind the doorframe enough that only one of her eyes peered at him now.

“Hey, kiddo...you hungry?” He softly asked her.

Harriet nodded shyly.

“Good.” He grinned wide. “I made your favorite, macaroni and cheese with ground beef. I made some purple lemonade too.” 

Harriet gasped and rushed to the fridge door, yanking hard and strong enough to open it fully and grab at the plastic pitcher filled with her favorite beverage. Her father laughed and cut the stove off in time for him to swoop down and catch the pitcher before it fell out of Harriet’s clumsy grasp onto the floor.

“Woah, woah! Calm down there, kiddo. I swear if I didn’t make this stuff myself, I’d think you were hooked on some serious stuff!” He chuckled, grabbing a sippy cup for her out of the upper cabinets and filling it up with the juice. After screwing the lid on tight, her dad picked her up in his arms and sat her in her high chair and let her grab the juice out of his hands to drink. Snatcher shook his head in amusement at the sudden loud sucking noise and turned to grab some bowls to fill with their dinner. He handed Harriet her small eating spoon and settled down into the seat next to her to begin eating.

Harriet didn’t have to wear a bib anymore, always making sure to carefully scoop her food up onto her utensil before shakily popping it into her mouth. She had to be extra good about messes so her daddy didn’t put the bib back on her again, she hated the feeling of it against her neck. It felt like someone was wrapping their hand around her small neck, and it sent her skin crawling with cold shivers down her spine. When she told her daddy this, he got a weird look on his face and promised to have her wear it anymore as long as she wasn’t too messy.

She loved her daddy.

“Harriet, I’m sorry.” Her father suddenly said, the metal of his spoon scraping against the ceramic of his bowl and echoing through the kitchen.

Harriet paused in the middle of her next shaky spoonful of food, brow furrowing in confusion. 

“Sorry?”

Her father nodded.

“Daddy was mean earlier today at the store and upset you. I’m very sorry about that. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but I certainly will try not to let it, okay? Daddy loves you very much and doesn’t want you to be upset.”

Harriet nodded, setting her spoon down and staring at her father as he stared into his bowl, stirring his spoon around in his food instead of eating it. She noticed his hair seemed shinier and more purpley than usual, his hands and fingers also slightly purple as well. She reached a hand out to grab at a strand of his hair, lightly tugging it enough to get him to look at her. Once she had her dad’s full attention, Harriet nodded.

“Daddy forgiven.”

Her father’s face scrunched up and his nose gave a strange little sniff before he laughed out loud, leaning over the table to kiss her on the cheek and give her a big hug.

“How did I get such a wonderful princess for a daughter, huh?” Snatcher said, pecking all over her face with small kisses to the point that she shrieked with laughter, swatting at his face. He eventually let her go and settled back into his seat. He picked up his spoon and hesitated right before he was about to continue eating.

“Harriet...was there any reason you wanted that dress specifically? You’ve never really cared if we didn’t get something before.”

Harriet nodded as serious as she could, her sippy cup nodding along with her as she sucked from it. She popped off of it after a big swallow and spoke.

“Dress pretty. Like princess! Daddy’s princess!” Harriet explained, patting her chest pointedly.

Her father stared at her for a moment before breaking out into a soft smile and nodding. 

“I see. You just wanted to dress like the princess you are. I understand now. I’m sorry I didn’t before. We’ll go back tomorrow and grab you one of those dresses, okay? Just...no green, alright?”

“No green?” She inquired, her head tilted in question.

“No, no green. Green...green makes Daddy very upset. How about we find you a nice purple or red one, instead?”

Harriet thought of the same dress in her favorite color and immediately nodded, scrapping the idea of wearing its green counterpart. She didn’t know what the color green ever did to her daddy, but if it upset him like he upset her this afternoon, then she wouldn’t wear anything green ever again! 

“No green!” she cried out, lifting her empty sippy cup into the air in a false cheer. “Only purple!”

Her father laughed and raised his glass of juice as well, tapping it gently against hers before standing up to refill her cup. Harriet sat in her high chair and stared down at the colorful cartoon star stickers that danced along the tray of her high chair, gaze latched onto the one green star character with long lashes that winked playfully up at her. She took her small, plastic spoon and grated hard enough against the sticker that the face of the green star flaked off, the residue of the sticker curling into grey bits that scattered into the wind when she blew on it.

“No green.” Harriet whispered to the other cartoon stars that stared up at her.

No green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i could be totally honest, i have no idea if what im writing is realistic or not cause i had a shit dad and i guess this is my subconcious' way of letting me have a good dad in my life.  
> also Snatcher's purple lemonade is just regular lemonade with purple food dye in it. Harriet swears its special though.
> 
> as always you can find me on tumblr at berryfartsart  
> Kudos and comments are always loved and welcomed! I reread everyone's responses over and over again!

**Author's Note:**

> you can find and yell at me on my tumblr berryfartsart. comments are always welcome.


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